The Goddess of Loss
by Pongo Twistleton
Summary: Lyraa belongs to a revered pure-blood family. She unfortunately, is no chip off the old block. Feisty, fabulous Lyraa and roguishly gorgeous Sirius Black seem to have hit it off strong. But it's never all that simple, is it?


[Type text]

The Goddess of Loss

For the third time in as many minutes, Lyraa Sylvain ducked as a Bludger whistled by the place where her head had been a few seconds ago. She turned around to see Sirius Black smirking. She looked away disgustedly and flew away to intercept the Quaffle when loud cheers assailed her ears and oh, surprise! Potter had the Snitch.

She landed lightly, scowled at the celebrating Gryffindors and stalked off toward the changing rooms. It was exasperating to watch the Gryffindor team play and know that the Slytherins could never play like that. Stupid lickspittle of a captain would even allow people to buy their way onto the team. Sometimes she wondered how she had managed to get on the team. In all likelihood her surname had something to do with it. Stupid, prejudiced pure-bloods. Also she flew, in her humble opinion, extremely well.

Lyraa was walking back to the dungeons in the foulest of tempers when Sirius hailed her, 'Oye, Sylvain.'

'Oh, it's you', she said crushingly.

A taciturn silence reigned for a while and then, Lyraa said abruptly, 'You. You could target Bludgers at ANYONE, Black, absolutely anyone! They're all Slytherins so you could gratify yourself completely. Why do I deserve your undivided attention, huh?'

'Whoa!' Sirius exclaimed holding up his hands as if to check her tirade, 'Aren't you the best Chaser your team's got? Isn't it just good strategy to hamper you?'

'Oh, you poor dear, when will you learn? I'm completely impervious to flattery'

Lyraa said royally.

'Anyway, what I came to ask you about was this, my brother, has he gone and joined the Death Eaters yet?'

Lyraa was more than a little surprised; Sirius Black had always seemed to hate his brother.

'Why don't you ask him yourself?'

'Ah but Sylvain, you're the only Slytherin I can stand talking to.'

Ignoring the double-edged compliment, Lyraa pronounced sorrowfully, 'I'm sorry Black, but he has', Lyraa seemed truly sad, 'I tried to convince him otherwise, you know, but he wouldn't listen... Merlin's pants! What've you done?!'

There was a loud crunch; Sirius Black had, in his fury, punched the rock wall of the dungeon, the idiot.

'You've shattered your knuckles', exclaimed Lyraa, grasping his bleeding hand, 'Hospital Wing?'

'Shut it, Sylvain. Leave me alone and go back to your Voldemort fan club buddies. You're probably just another of Voldemort's little bitches', he said, pulling his hand away.

'Suit yourself. Pleasure etc.', Lyraa's voice was as cold as the draughty corridor; she withdrew, leaving Sirius cursing under his breath.

~•~

Sirius walked back toward the Hospital Wing, nursing his mutilated hand, confused by how Lyraa's cold demeanour disturbed him more than Regulus' latest but of news.

Perhaps it was because he had always known that Regulus would turn out no different from the rest of his family. That hadn't stopped him hoping though.

Lyraa though... That girl continued to remain an enigma. From a family of the most bona-fide pureblood enthusiasts there were, here was this girl: as haughty and regal as the rest of the Sylvains, completely lacking in the Sylvain prejudice.

Probably a mould-breaker, like him.

_Nonetheless, a priceless specimen_, he grinned to himself.

It was a pity he'd been rude to her, but he'd let her see a little too much of himself. No one should know that Sirius Black still retained vestiges of brotherliness for his daft little brother.

Sirius had reached the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey was peering out at him, 'Ah, it's you. What is it now? A fight or just some routine daredevilry?'

Sirius beamed at her, 'The latter, I think.'

~•~

It was sometime before Christmas when Sirius, sitting in the warm Gryffindor common room, tentatively said 'Hey Moony?'

'Yeah?' said Remus, looking up from his essay on the properties of the Bezoar.

'Oh, nothing', said Sirius looking uncomfortable.

'What, Padfoot?' asked Remus interestedly when came James' cheery greeting rang down the spiralling staircase, 'Moony, still swotting it out eh?'

'Sirius here has a problem, James', said Remus, grinning at the prospect of ragging Sirius; turning the tables was always fun.

'Shut up, Moony!'

'What? What? What, Padfoot?' chanted Remus and James evilly.

To their immense surprise Sirius turned a delicate shade of red, 'I just need to apologise to someone.'

'Well, well, well', said James wickedly.

'Is it a female individual of the species?' asked Remus smiling.

'Well yes! Or would I worry?!' said Sirius throwing his hands up.

'Who's this girl, Padfoot?' asked James.

'Lyraa Sylvain.'

'She isn't a bad sort, you know', Remus said thoughtfully. 'Used the Bat-Bogey Hex on Rosier the other day when he was threatening Andrew Pruitt.'

'Any young lady that can hex any no-good Slytherin has my interest', said Sirius approvingly.

'Also, she's pretty', James winked at him.

'And she has very well-defined cheekbones', Sirius drawled, trying to be the casual connoisseur but he was a little too enthusiastic, thought James.

'Take her to Slughorn's dance!' said James.

'Wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't been a complete arse to her. Also taking someone to a dance is no apology, Prongs.'

'10 Galleons if you charm her into going to the dance with you! Can't be too difficult for a gentleman like you', suggested James cunningly.

'Interesting proposition. I could do a lot with 10 Galleons', said Sirius thoughtfully. 'I'll think about it... I'm game!' he said, eyes shining at the prospect of what was certainly going to be a long walk uphill.

~•~

The next day, Lyraa had Double Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Transfiguration was her favourite subject. That day Professor McGonagall was going into the mechanics of Animagi. Lyraa listened eagerly; she couldn't wait to become an Animagus herself. Potter and Black were snickering in their seats. _Probably secret unregistered Animagi, laughing at the rest of us plebeians for not having done it yet_, thought Lyraa amusedly.

'Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, would you care to explain what it is that you find so amusing', said McGonagall sharply.

'Uh, Professor, it was this joke about a joke about a werewolf, a dog and a stag...'

'Mr. Black, you will meet me after class. Ms. Sylvain, what on earth are you doing?! You will meet me after class as well. Mr. Potter, meet Professor Flitwick and get your eyebrows restored. Really! This class is becoming more difficult to teach every day!'

For the rest of the lesson, silence reigned and by its end, most of the class shuffled away chattering. James whispered to Sirius, 'I'm a priceless wingman, aren't I, Padfoot? Selfless like?'

'Thank you, Prongs, but I'd have managed anyway', said Sirius irritably.

'Detention for you, Mr. Black for your cheek. And Ms. Sylvain, why did you think changing the colour of Mr. Potter's eyebrows was even remotely entertaining, impressive as that bit of magic was?'

Lyraa smiled at the gloved compliment, 'Thank you Professor, and I did it because he was going to hex Ms. Evans. Again', she said cocking an eyebrow meaningfully at her.

'While I am inclined to believe you, there is no way you can prove your allegation, so you and Mr. Black will undergo detention tonight after dinner, with Hagrid. Is that understood?'

'Crystal clear, Professor', said Sirius in his arrogantly cheerful way.

Outside the class, Lily walked up to Lyraa grinning, 'Admirable show Lyraa, I couldn't have imagined spending another week with pink hair.'

'Always a pleasure, Lily', said Lyraa sniggering.

'No one gets away with hexing my friend, Sylvain', Sirius said grandiosely, 'you'll pay.'

Lyraa snorted derisively.

After Lily withdrew, Sirius cleared his throat, 'So Lyraa, I'll see you tonight eh?'

'Don't state the obvious, Black.'

'Say my name, Lyraa', said Sirius mischievously.

'Why Black, you're flirting!', Lyraa stopped walking, turned and glanced at him from under her black lashes, eyes glittering.

'I'll see you tonight, Black', she said, stroking his chin with a languorous finger. Having effectively caused Sirius's jaw to drop, Lyraa mouthed, 'Your move' and turned on her heel and walked back down the corridor.

~•~

_There was a perverse joy in shocking people_, thought Lyraa to herself that evening in the common room, smiling. After dinner, Lyraa made her way to the Entrance Hall where she found Sirius already waiting. When he saw her, he smiled and offered his arm. Lyraa raised her eyebrows but took his arm anyway and they made their way to Hagrid's looking as funny a couple as there ever was.

'Abou' time. All right, you two?' Hagrid's booming voice reached them. Lyraa let go of Sirius' arm like he'd caught the plague.

'Look there, that's unicorn blood. There's one in there tha's been hurt badly by summat. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing first. Keep ter the path, we'll go two ways, send up greens sparks if yeh find it and red sparks if you get in trouble an' we'll come an' find yeh, a' right, let's go.'

'Alright, look for unicorn blood, shouldn't be too hard, there's a moon tonight', murmured Lyraa holding her lighted wand tip aloft gazing into the distance after Hagrid had taken one path.

'Go to Slughorn's dance with me', said Sirius abruptly.

'Huh?' said Lyraa nonplussed.

'Come with me to the dance, Lyraa', he said more assertively by which time Lyraa had regained sufficient composure to say, 'I'll bet Potter dared you to take me out.'

'That I'll admit, but I want you to go with me.'

'Convince me', she said, turning away and continuing into the undergrowth.

Sirius looked at her retreating figure and made a split-second decision. He stumbled on behind her, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. He had a moment to savour he look of panic that flitted over her elegant, angular visage, and then he turned her face up with a confident hand and kissed her.

Lyraa didn't stop him. She didn't want to. At first she stared at Sirius in shock but soon enough, she melted into him and returned his ardour. When, after aeons perhaps, in which time meteors had burned up the earth's surface, ice had encased dormant life and then the earth was born again, Sirius pulled away gently, Lyraa said breathlessly, 'Yes! I'll go to the dance with you!'

Hagrid just then came into the the clearing, crashing through the undergrowth, 'Wha's matter? Who sent up red sparks?'

'It was Black! He sneaked up behind me and grabbed me', said Lyraa with a straight face.

'Sorry, Hagrid', returned Sirius and when calm was restored Lyraa and Sirius went on to find the injured unicorn and helped Hagrid restore the bleeding creature in perfect silence.

At around 11, as the students were walking back to the castle, Sirius leaned over and grinned devilishly at Lyraa, 'You sent up red sparks?! Am I that terrible a kisser?'

~•~

An hour before Slughorn's dance, as Sirius watched James trying earnestly to convince Lily to take him to the dance with her, Sirius smiled to himself. _Dress to kill, Sirius_, he had thought to himself and so he had done. Dressed suavely in a black dinner jacket and a crisp white shirt, missing a tie and apparently a few buttons as well, he ran his hand through his elegantly falling hair and left through the portrait hole after giving James a thumbs up for good luck with Lily.

At the top of the staircase leading to the dungeons, Sirius found Lyraa waiting. She turned when she saw he'd come and Sirius quickened his pace. _Wow_, he thought.

Lyraa was dressed simply in a black frock with gilt-embroidered edges done in a Jaipuri design. She'd let her black hair fall softly to her shoulders unornamented, and she'd outlined her eyes in kohl. _She looks like an Indian princess on the shores of the Lake of Dreams; her opalescent eyes betray her anxiety for her prince at war_, thought Sirius. _Merlin's beard, I'm a poet_, he thought next.

Sirius reached Lyraa, knelt before her and pressed his lips to the hand that was offered to him. He stood up then and smiled crookedly at her, 'Shall we go, then?'

_Adorable_, she thought. It was funny how, with every passing minute Sirius Black's features were growing more tolerable, and what's perhaps worse, pleasing.

Sirius was a good dancer, Lyraa was a practiced one. The phrase 'burning the dance floor' would be an understatement.

Slughorn was all praise, 'Mr. Black, Ms. Sylvain, you make the rest of us feel arthritic. Ho ho ho!'

'Just out of curiousity, are you half-Indian? Because you look like one', Sirius asked as he twirled her.

'My mother's Indian royalty', she trilled, pirouetting.

'Really? And there's a story behind that, I suppose?'

'Mother was going to be burnt at the stake. Witch hunt, you know? Then she met Father who was on his customary world tour, and long story short, they ran away.'

'That explains why you look like a princess yourself', whispered Sirius engagingly as he spun and caught her.

'You flatter me, Mr. Black', Lyraa smiled. Suddenly, Sirius was too close, his grey eyes too deep, his breath a little too distracting.

'Be so kind as to escort me to a table and bring refreshments, won't you?' she looked at him, willing herself back to the real world.

'Your wish is ever my command, miss.'

'Pumpkin juice for the lady', said Sirius appearing with 2 goblets.

'Thank you, Black.'

'What will it take for you to use my first name?'

'Oh, all right! Thank you, Sirius', said Lyraa, blushing the littlest bit.

'Do you want to continue at this fancy party or break a few rules?', asked Sirius mysteriously.

'What shall we do?' Lyraa's eyes sparkled.

Sirius pulled Lyraa to her feet and took off down the hall, 'Sweets for the sweet? How about I take you to Honeydukes, Lyraa?'

Lyraa was curious, 'I'd like to see how you manage.'

Sirius led Lyraa to the statue of the one-eyed hag and tapped her hump with his wand, saying '_Dissendium_'. He watched Lyraa's eyes grow large and smiled to himself. As he helped her in, he saw a ring on her finger, a thin, gold band set with a small sparkling diamond.

'You aren't married, are you?' asked Sirius in tones of mock anxiety, indicating the ring.

'Oh, no darling, it's only a promise ring', replied Lyraa casually.

Sirius laughed and jumped into the passage.

'I'll ruin my dress if I have to crawl, Black.'

'Don't be a ninny, go on!'

They walked on for some more time in silence, nearly bent double.

'Okay, we're not going ahead with this. There's the small question of whether I'll have to shove my rump in the air. I'm wearing a dress, if you hadn't noticed.'

'All the more reason to continue', Sirius' teeth flashed in the dark passage.

Lyraa turned around, eyes fiery and struck out at him.

'Oh, all right! I'll take you later. When you're dressed more appropriately.'

'That's m'boy!' Lyraa still seething as they climbed back up the passage.'

They climbed out of the one-eyed crone's hump and waited for a few moments in silence.

'I'm tired, Sirius; I think I'll go back to the dorm now', Lyraa said.

'Alright, I'll accompany you there, and then take off', he led her to the top of the staircase.

'G'night, Lyraa', Sirius said smiling at her gently.

'Night night, Sirius.'

He watched her climb down the steps uncertainly, 'Lyraa!'

She shot him a quizzical look over her back.

'I'm sorry. That day after the match, uh, when I called you a, erm.'

Lyraa smiled gently, 'It's alright, Sirius; never mind about that. You'd just received some unpleasant news. And it's always the messenger who bears the brunt', she grinned.

Lyraa glanced into Sirius' eyes and on a whim, ran upstairs, pressed her lips to his cheek quickly, smiled and tripped away down the stairs.

~•~

'You hold up there', Sirius called out when he saw Lyraa in the corridor.

He pulled her into an empty classroom.

'Out Peeves', he shouted at the poltergeist who was scribbling obscenities on the blackboard.

'What is it?' Lyraa enquired.

'Do tell me what the meaning of this is', Sirius flung a scrap of parchment at her.

Lyraa read it through quickly and looked shell-shocked, 'It's from my mother.'

'Yes. And she's warned me not to "toy with her daughter who has long been promised to another young man".'

Lyraa was beginning to speak, when Sirius held up his hand, 'I couldn't be bothered about your mother being an overprotective hag; I know all about that. It's just this "promised-to-someone" else thing, so that's what your ring was? You're betrothed to someone. Ugh. And I took you on a date!'

'I can explain, Sirius', Lyraa said urgently.

'Never mind, Lyraa', he said indifferently, and walked out, leaving Lyraa sunk to her knees in despair.

~•~

Lyraa wouldn't apologise. As far as she was concerned, she hadn't made any mistake by not spilling out her secrets to Black the first time she went out with him. He was overreacting and if he wanted silence, he was jolly well going to get it. Of course, she was hurt that she had lost a friend who understood her fascination for Muggle technology and culture, and someone who understood her hatred of her family. She tried telling herself he was only a friend, but she couldn't get rid of the sneaking suspicion that Sirius Black had grown to occupy half her heart, and now that he was gone he'd left a gaping hole that she didn't know how to fill.

It was sometime in January when Lyraa was sitting by the frozen lake reading the Lord of the Rings, that the icy wall of silence that had grown between her and Sirius finally cracked. It was a bleak Saturday morning, and here were to be no classes that day. Most fifth years were catching up on their enormous pile of homework in the warmth of their common rooms, but Lyraa found the call of the fictional world too strong to deny.

Sirius caught sight of her through the window of the common room and decided to go speak to her. He had a sense of honour which had been nagging him to listen to all that Lyraa had to say for quite some time.

'Prongs, I should go talk to her, right?' he turned around to James.

'Of course! D'you know, Moony, he's been spouting poetry ever since he took Lyraa to the dance?' James remarked to Remus.

'What if she punches me again? Like that day when we had Quidditch practice', Sirius asked no one in particular.

'"Her collarbones are like the wings of a falcon in flight" ', quoted Remus smirking.

'Why'd she punch you?' Peter asked curiously.

'I chucked a Bludger at her', Sirius said thoughtfully.

'"Her hair, it falls like the waters of the river Styx"', James continued happily, 'Speaking of which, why should you compare her hair to the river Styx? Not very romantic, is it?'

'Alright, I'll talk to her!' said Sirius turning red and running out the common room.

Lyraa heard someone crunching his way towards her and turned around. _Ah, Black_, she thought and went back to her book.

'Lyraa', said Sirius.

'Black.'

'Please don't punch me. Let me get this out. I'm sorry; I should've listened to you.'

'Yes, you should've', she said bluntly and looked at Sirius with wide, searching eyes.

'I'll listen now', he said, seating himself beside her.

'Do you have the patience?' she asked.

'Try me', he smiled.

Almost as soon as Lyraa was born, her parents began to look for a suitable boy to get her affianced to. Marriage would come later, but in accordance with a not-yet-obsolete Indian practice, Lyraa was to be promised to a worthy family. There was an old and respected, German pure-blood family with a son two years older than Lyraa.

When Lyraa turned thirteen, she received a promise ring by post from Germany. Lyraa's mother charmed the ring so that she would know immediately if Lyraa took it off. So Lyraa didn't.

Lyraa couldn't afford to fall out with her family because she'd be disowned. So her mother had told her, and Lyraa never once made the mistake of disbelieving her.

In her first year, when she was to be sorted, she whispered fervently to the Sorting Hat, 'Slytherin, Slytherin, oh please, please Slytherin.' And the Hat had listened. Any house but Slytherin would have warranted her mother's wrath.

For five years, she had played it safe, and then Sirius had happened.

'It was my prick of a brother, second year, who wrote to my mother telling her I went with you to a dance. I received a Howler the next day', Lyraa grimaced. 'I can't break off from the family till I get a job. Or I'll be withdrawn from Hogwarts. And I can't break off this engagement. I can't even take off this ring you know; it's charmed to inform my mother if I do. So until the day I gain financial independence, I have to suck up', she smiled ruefully. 'You're lucky the Potters adopted you. I don't have many friends who'd do that for me.'

'I feel so contemptible, I'm terribly sorry, Lyraa', said Sirius when she was done. He'd apologised quietly for what was pehaps the first time in his life. He felt truly sorry for what he'd done and he wanted to let Lyraa know. Unexpected as it was, she wasn't just any of the other girls he flirted with incessantly, she meant something more. He'd do anything to win her approval, he realised.

'You're quiet. And you continue to surprise. I'd hoped you, fuelled with adrenaline, would proclaim a vendetta against said fiancé and punch in his face', Lyraa said lightly.

When Sirius made no attempt to laugh it off, Lyraa could see he was perturbed, 'Have I freaked you out?'

'Huh? Why?'

'Little messy situation my life, wouldn't you say?'

Sirius looked utterly serious though, as he caught her hand and gazed intently at her, 'Promise me you'll get rid of the ring when you leave school.'

Lyraa though surprised at his earnestness, pressed his hand and replied seriously, 'Rest assured.'

'Good. Then I'll continue to be attracted and amused by you', Sirius was once more his suave self. He pecked her lightly and left.

Lyraa grinned after him until he disappeared into the castle.

'Good going, mate!' Loud cheers reached Sirius when he climbed into the common room. James, Remus and Peter were grinning broadly at him from beside the window.

~•~

It was a few days after the N.E. when, 'Lyraa!'

She stopped walking, and waited for Sirius to catch up with her.

'Warm day?' he asked.

'Rather. Why?' she enquired of him, intrigued.

'Would you like a drink?' he asked solemnly.

'If you're offering me one, very much.'

'Alright then, come!', Sirius led her down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall and turned left down a flight of stone steps that led into a brightly lit broad stone corridor decorated with cheerful paintings of food. He walked to the painting of a silver fruit bowl and tickled the pear which surprised Lyraa more by giggling.

'Wow, so these are the kitchens! Impressive. Bet you keep nicking food from here', she said looking around the place interestedly.

'Guilty', he said, his hand on his heart, 'but I'm doing something much nobler today: Being your caring servant.' He looked like a schoolboy doing his routine good deed.

The excited house elves brought Lyraa a goblet of sugarcane crush on a silver salver.

'Good service!' she smiled at them to their delight and nodded approvingly to Sirius.

Their relationship at Hogwarts toddled along for the next two years in somewhat the same confused vein.

Tumultuous sometimes, playful a lot of times, but always something they treasured, always something they went to sleep dreaming of.

Later, Sirius would miss pulling Lyraa into empty classrooms to ask after her day, beaning her with Bludgers at Quidditch, and how she reciprocated by hexing him when she was irritated and the moments they shared when they were holed up in dusty broom cupboards sharing urgent kisses that were always insufficient.

They never longed for each other; they gave their relationship no name. But they always knew that for each other, there wasn't and never could be anyone but them. Perhaps this was what the bards called love. Perhaps names didn't matter.

~•~

It was some two years after leaving Hogwarts. Lily and Lyraa had grown to be quite close. Now they were both members of the Order of the Phoenix.

And today Lyraa was to be Lily's maid-of-honour.

'You're looking perfect', Lyraa smiled at Lily in the mirror.

'Okay, let's go! You're wedding has got to be the next, alright?', Lily reminded Lyraa.

'Aah, we'll see', Lyraa replied evasively and led Lily down the stairs.

After the wedding, when Lily threw up her bouquet, Lyraa inadvertently caught it, and looked at it like it was a spider. Lily chuckled, and Sirius winked at her. When Sirius took her hand for the dance, she looked the faintest bit disconcerted. But soon enough she forgot herself as she waltzed with Sirius.

'Come home tonight. I've been trying out cooking spells and I need a guinea pig', she told him.

Sirius made a face and sighed, 'Noblesse oblige.'

'Good', Lyraa grinned and offered her hand to James for the next dance.

'You're going to the Lestrange Manor with Mad-Eye tomorrow, aren't you?', James asked.

She nodded, a frown creasing her forehead.

'You take care', James smiled, 'And don't keep Sirius waiting too long. He might not admit it, but he positively loves you.'

He spun her, smiling, back to Sirius.

That night, Sirius and Lyraa were in her apartment sharing dinner.

'This isn't too bad, Lyraa!'

'You sound surprised?'

'Oh no, no surprise at all, just serendipity', he smiled.

'Sirius, help me with the dishes!' Lyraa called from the kitchen. He apparated right behind her, frightening her enough to elicit a wailing yowl and make her drop the dish she was holding.

'Leave that alone and come sit, Lyraa', said Sirius severely.

He pulled her onto the couch and caught her in his arms as she tumbled onto him. 'What is it, Sirius?'

'You'll take care tomorrow, won't you?', he asked.

'I'll try not to die', she replied carelessly.

'Lyraa', Sirius said sharply, 'you will stop talking like that.'

'Alright, what's bothering you?'

'It's now or never, isn't it?' he said reflectively. Lyraa was perturbed, she listened intently.

'What with Voldemort killing the people you care for, everyday.. '

'Sirius', Lyraa interrupted him, disturbed.

He placed a finger on her lips to hush her, and said, 'I'll let you get into something comfortable', disentangled himself from Lyraa and went into the kitchen.

The sounds of ice clinking in a glass reached a stunned Lyraa. The meaning of Sirius' words sunk ominously into her. A thousand words began offering clamorous advice inside her head and Lyraa got up from the couch as if it was a porcupine she had been sitting on and ran into her room, panicking.

'There's nothing comfortable here, there's nothing sexy here, oh darn it, I give up!', she screamed in her head and settled for a white summer dress that fell halfway to her knees and made her look pleasantly fairy-like.

She sighed; suddenly irrationally afraid and stood where she was unmoving, waiting for Sirius to enter. When he did, Lyraa looked into his unreadable eyes and waited with bated breath.

The air was heavy and wet with the weight of so many unsaid things, so many memories that meant so much more now; a single sob, choked back before it was born.

There was a nebulous clumsiness around them. Lyraa looked at Sirius like she never had before. When their gazes locked, there was a curious intensity in the way their eyes probed each other's. Like two strangers caught peeping.

There was a glass wall of uneasiness between them.

Sirius looked this white-clad elf-like being and hesitated. Suddenly, the flirtatious Lyraa of old was no more; there was just this innocent, vulnerable-looking girl.

_It would be a crime_, he thought. _It would be like violating her._ He loved her, he told himself and he wouldn't hurt her. She meant the world to him and he wanted to tell her that. But he could never do it. When he wanted to, his throat would fail him and he'd give up.

She took a step closer to him and started to speak. Sirius smiled suddenly. Lyraa giggled at the absurdity of the situation. Them, strangers? The glass wall was as smoke in a breeze.

They were strangers who had met in a chance encounter destined when Time began.

She was an Indian princess on the shores of the Lake of Dreams; her opalescent eyes await the arrival of her prince at war. He sails to her on a ship of ebony bedecked with silks and jewels. He brings her gifts of sandal and fragrance. He brings her his love, his strength and his willingness to serve the woman he harbours in his heart.

She awaits him with unswerving loyalty. When he comes to her, her arms are open to receive. She gives unflinchingly of her infinite patience, her passion and her soothing touch.

What happened next was always intended to. A moment gave birth to an eternity. Time warped, Space forgot its constraints.

They gave of each other slowly. Lyraa's reticence stoked Sirius' impatience. His nagging guilt provoked Lyraa.

They were ice and fire. They were man and beast. She was the raging ocean he battled. She was the serene sea he worshipped. He was her lord and master. He was her ever-faithful devotee.

'You're my God of Loss', Lyraa mumbled quietly, burying her face in Sirius' shoulder, as they reached the culmination of their love-making. Portentous words dismissed as mere exclamations uttered in the heat of love. Poor fools, how were they to know...

Lyraa was drifting slowly off to sleep, her head on Sirius's chest, when Sirius as difficult as he found it, watching her even, almost childlike breathing, roused her gently, 'Lyraa, there's something I need to ask you.'

She sat up and pulled the sheets around her and listened attentively. Sirius leaned down to the floor and rummaged around in his trousers and popped up with a very small blue velvet-covered box. Sirius watched the look of dawning comprehension on Lyraa's face and smiled.

He opened the box and proffered it to Lyraa silently.

'That's why James told me not to keep you waiting!' she exclaimed lightly. 'I wouldn't have you know', she smiled and held out her hand to him. Sirius slipped onto her finger a simple gold band. We can argue now if the small sound that escaped him then was a smothered snuffle or a light sneeze. Does it matter, though?

~•~

The next day, Lyraa was killed by a stray spell while duelling Antonin Dolohov and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Fin.


End file.
